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JUST COMMON FOLKS 



BY 



DICK POSEY 







OONTEZNTS 



BUTTER-SIDE DOWN. 
BILL. 

FROM DAD. 

FROM MOTHER. 

OLD DOC BILIOUS. 

ILLUMINATED BIBLE STORIES. 

BECKY LN THE TRENCHES. 

CHANTICLEER, A BARNYARD TRAGEDY. 
(An Old Saw V/orked Over.) 

THEY KICKED THE BUCKET CVER. 

SMILES. 

MOTHER'S BISCUITS. 

WHEN PA TRIED TO Yv^EAN THE CALF. 

THE CONTRARIEST MAN. 

THE FLAG. 

HAWG MEAT. 

THE LAND OF I V\H3HT IT ^VAS. 

TWINS. 

I'VE GOT MY FINGERS CROSSED. 

WEALTH HAS IT'S BURDENS. 

JUST COMMON FOLKS. 

Copyrighted 1 9 1 8 by Richard Pcsey Campbell. All Rights Reserved 

m -9 1^^^ 



©GLA499193 



^-i^v I 



Dick Fosey 

Butter-Side-DGwn 

When I was a little tot, long ago, 
My mother would butter some bread and saT- 
"Run along, little sonny now, and play," 
In those riotous days of the long ago. 
But alas, as I started away with a yell, 
I stubbed my toe and down I foil. 
And that bread and butter I clutched in my hand 
Had a habit I never could understand. 
It always managed, somehow*,, to land 
Butter-side-down. 

When I grew to my youth in the long ago, 
I loved an angel with yellow hair, 
Willowy form and a queenly air, 
In those tragic days of the long ago. 
I courted ber hard with amorous look 
O'er the grimy edge of my spelling book. 
But Alas, that school-ma'am of doubtful ag©, 
Mairried a preacher of meager wage, 
And I landed hard in my grief and rage, 
Butter-side-dcv/n. 

Another and I in the long ago 
Entered with vigor a Marathon race 
For the gilded chair in a lofty place. 
We two candidates, long ago. 
We toured the country mile on mile, 
Our features froze in a constant smile. 
Together we scaled Fame's dizzy hump. 
We reached the top with a mighty jump, 
But, — one of us fell with an awful bump! 
Butter-side-down. 



Bick Posey 

O, frenzied days of the long ago! 
How often I've entered the giddy strife, .. 

Chasing tli^B dreams of a fevered life, — 
The shadows of hope in the long ago. 
While they but mocked me and then -were gone, 
Yet, nobler visions still beckoned me on. 
'Tis the .itory tiiat most of our tongues must tell: 
Though our hands are empty, we've labored well, 
For, we gained new vigor each time we fell 
Butter'-side-down. 



Bill went to a camp-meetin' 
Dressed in his Sunday-best, 
And sat him down sedately 
In a yaller jacket's nest; 
When suddenly, Vv^ith shriek and yell 
He leaped into the air, 
And shed great tears of anguish, 
Rent his cldthes and tore his hair. 
The good folks cluster,ed r;ound him. 
Shouting praises v/hile he roared, 
And asked him which he'd rather be 
Sprinkled, immersed or poured? 
Will ground his teeth in agony 
The while they all did shout, 
Then h,Q sneaked off in the bushes 
And he pulled the stingers outi. 



Dick Posey 



Glad greetings to j-ou, Jack, old boy, give us your 
fist, my lad, 
Though haii of the world's between us, just "put 
her there" for Dad, 
I can't write like your mother or a sweet little girl 
I know. 
But I feel that we're pals and friends. Jack, and 
I trust that you feel it so. 
And when you and your comrades are thinking of 
home, perhaps, 
— Well, tell the boys in the trenches not to for- 
get their "paps". 

They say that our hesrts are calloused and un- 
feeling, if you choose, 
All clogged up with toi)acco and perhaps a lot of 
booze, 
But we'll not argue the question, just give the 
folks their way. 
And let you solve that riddle when you are a 
dad some day. 
There isn't much nevv's to tell you, your friends are 
happy and strong. 
And all of us Hooverizing just to help you bovs 
along. 

The business is doing splendid, it has grown so big, 

you see, 
I needed an active partner, so I took yru in 

with me. 
So you may keep real busy there at your end of 

the line. 



Dick Posey 

Wtfile I get my nose on the grindstone and go 
plugging along at mine. 
Jack, I'd rather take your chanced, no matter what 
hardships come, 

Than to skate along on Easy Street, like the fel- 
lows that stayed at home. 

Your girlie called this morning, bright and sweet 
as the morning dew, 
And I loved her, not for you alone, but because 
of her love for you. 
She talked so brave and hopeful and uttered no 
vain regret. 
But, when she turned and left me I could see 
that her eyes were wet. 
And when the war is over and you shall have done 
your part. 
You will find a priceless treasure in the depths 
of a virgin heart. 

Your mother keeps well and cheerful, though she 
sheds some tears for you. 
But they're tears of love and faith and hope and 
they're shed for your comrades, too. 
I'll never forget the day, Jack, when you answered 
your country's call; 
How she smothered her grief with a Spartan 
smile and swallowed her cup of gall. 
I found you kneeling together, you and your 
mother, boy. 
And I saw on her anguished features the trace 
of a holy joy. 

I wanted to kneel beside you, but that isn't just 
my way, 



Dick Posey 

So I sneaked off into the woodshe'd and I tried 
my best to pray. 
And, when you marched av/ay lad, away from the 
old home, Jack, 
Our hearts were almost bursting, — but we 
wouldn't have called you back. 
— Here, I guess I'm getting childish like, and senile 
with my years, 
But your mother's tragic struggle is excuse 
enough for tears. 

I wish I could shake off twenty years and stand 
to your shoulder, man. 
And strike those hell-fiends blow for blow, till 
somebody's heart blood ran. 
I'd like to leap to the thick o' the fight with a 
Yankee's reckless zest 
And kill my man with a joyful shout and know 
that I'd done my best. 
I'd love to see Old Glory sweep through the solid 
Teuton wall, 
And feel the surge of the hot, red blood as it 
answ^ered the bugle call. 

But they tell mo I'm old and senile, — not fit for the 
trenches there. 

So I'll have to fight old Kaiser Bill with volleys 
of red hot air, 

But say, if you get him cornered, and he holds 
real still, you see, 

Just slip in a soft-nosed cartridge, Jack, and 

plug him one for me. 
Well, I hope you'll dodge the bullets, and may God 

preserve you, lad, 
And while you're thinking of others, just don't 

forget, Your Dad. 



Dick Posey 



My own big soldier man child, 

I've beien thinking of you all day, 

And I wan,t to talk to, you, heart to heairt. 

As only a mother may, 

I wish I could cuddle you, sonny, 

Right li,ere in my empty arms, — 

A mother's refuge for grown up boys — 

Away from all war's alarms. 

That is but the mother yearning, 

The woman would hold you true 

To the righteous cause of an outraged world, 

And true to the heart of you. 

Our country has now awakened 

To a, sense of her sacred trust. 

And th,e mighty heart, of a mighty race 

Is burning with battlie's lust. 

Wo see the flower of our manhood 
By the God of nations led, 
And we'll feed and clothe and arm you 
Though we nibble a crust of bread. 
O Jack, we are proud of you, sonny. 
That our country, wonderful, grand, 
Belieyes in you^, trusts you, upholds you 
With the strength of her mighty hand. 

We often sit of an evening, 

Your father and Lucy and I, 

And think of our loved one sleeping 

'Neath the stars of an alien sky; 

And when Father reads of a struggle 

That calls for a courage rare. 



Dick Posey 

He squares his shoulders and says to u^, 
"I'll wager our Jiack was there." 

And Lucy's so sweet and wiiolesome 

With a courage rarely known. 

We have folded hieir into our bosoms 

And hold her as our own. 

Often I think of you both, dear, 

And heavenly visions see 

Of my own dear, sweet grand-children 

Playing around my knee. 

And often I think of the radiant past. 

When my womanhood was blest 

With th,e only babe thn,t ever touched 

Its lips to my throbbing breast. 

Then I prayed you'd be strong and manly 

And noble and brave and free, 

With a great, warm,, tender, loving heart 

Like the Man of Galilee. 

Ah, little I dreamed in the JDlissful days 

Of early motherhood, • 

I should ask you to dip those baby hands 

Into fountains of human blood! 

But strike! 'tis your mother who asks it, 

So long as a Teuton stands, 

And I'll face my God on the Judgment Day 

With their blood on these mother hands. 

My heart is clutched with a burden 
Of horror no pen can tell, 
As I read of the crimes committed 
At the hands of those fiends of Hell. 
Pure womanhood, prostituted 



Dick Posey 

By a testial, leering foe, 

Their virtue sunk in the mir© of shame 

With their spirits as white as snow. 

So, as you love your counti^y 

And revere your father's name. 

And would fold sweiet Lucy to your heart), 

Uhtouched by the blight of shame. 

Then do your blcod(-drenched duty 

Under the flag, my son, 

And remember the welcome that waits you 

At home and in Oregon. 

<S> <S> ^ 

The Junior embraced his sweet Sophomore 

And all nature seemed to sing, 
While over the fence was the brindle cow, 

Licking her young offspring. 

Two preachers came to our house once , 
And talked to beat the band, 
And bragged about their oncestry. 
And swelled up proud and grand. 
They proved they'd both descended 
From th|e good old Mayflower stock. 
And at dinner both thos,e preachers 
Landed on a Plymouth Rock. 

<3> ^ ^ 

It don't take long to get qualified to set on a 
Jury. 



Dick Posey 

Old Doc Bilious 

For downright brains and good hoss-sense 
And cold, clear judgment, if you please, 
And one that knows the elements 
Of medicine like A. B. C.'s, 
Just give me old Doc Van Der Slim, 
Or rather, as we nick-named him, 
"Doc Bilious." 

No matter what you had, 'y gum! 
Chills, fever, gout or rheumatiz, 
Or hyderphoby, or some 
Name to make your bristles riz. 
Old Doc 'ud feel your pulse and say. 
In his cool, ca'm, ccnvincin' way, 
"Yer bilious." 

Say a feller lost a hoss or wife 
And feelin' most tarnation blue 
And wapper-jawed, why, big as life 
Old Doc 'ud look him through and through: 
"Yer case is clare," he'd say, says he, 
"Take a sasserful of senny tea, 
"Yer bilious." 

Old Deacon Ames was purt' nigh dead, 
Biles and cyarbuncles, Mercy, Say! 
His friends had gethered at his bed 
To cheer him on his lonely way. 
All j'ned in song with Sister Pound, 
"JHark From The Tomb, A Doleful Sound." 

He was 'bout to leave this vale of sin, 
— Jake Brown, he swears his eyes was set, 



Dick Posey 

Then here Doc come a puffin' in 
And made that bunch git up and get. 
He drove 'em out and locked the door. 
You ask me If he cured him? Shore! 
Just bilious. 

Man moved in here from Michigan, 
His candle purty nigh snuffed out. 
One lung clean gone and t'other one 
A goin' fast without a doubt. 
Doc sized him up and says, says he, 
A dopin' out his senny tea: 

"Yer bilious." 

He wheezed along, but it was clear 
He's gainin', just to beat the band. 
This galorious climate, and this here 
Lithy water fetched him. And 
Old Doc he laughed and shuck his head, 
"What did I tell ye, boys?" he said, 
"Just bilious." 

Two surgeons 'lowed that old Hy Stout 
Had 'pendeceetus mighty bad, 
— ^Just bound to rip his innards out! 
Then Doc stomped in and say, he's mad. 
"What you blame butchers drivin' at?" 
Says he, "You're talkin' through yer hat, 
"Hy's bilious." 

He jammed some bluemass down his neck, 
And castor-ile and roobarb root, 
— 'Nougli to gag a hog, 'y Heck! 
And put a compress on, to boot. 
Well, two days he had left his bed, 



Dick P0SG5' 

'Course, Hy's weak, but, just like Old Doc said, 
He's bilious. 

No matter what the trouble'd be, 
Old Doc would diagnose your case 
Always to fit his remedy. 
And camp right with you on the place. 
Got so that Doc just loved a feller 
'Bout half to death when he'd get yeller 
And bilious. 

Well, Doc's time come at ninety-three. 
We saw that he was goin' fast, 
Doc knowed it, too, and says, says he, 
"I've ketched it, boys, myself at last." 
He kind o' turned his head away 
And Bill leant down and heerd him say, 
"I'm bilious." 

The sun was settin' and the sky 
Was smeared with saffron everywhere, 
As yeller as a punkin pie. 
Doc riz up on his elbov/ there: 
"Why, boys, things' gettin' worse and worse, 
Just look, the entire unyverse 
Is bilious." 

<8» ^ ^ 

I may bo wrong, but I claim thct the average 
mother-in-law is plenty good enough for her dar- 
ter's husband. 

Old Lige Turner and his wife are always spar- 
rin'. Lige told her the other day that if some 
women had cancer o' the tongue they'd talk through 
their noses. 



Dick Posey 



My mama, she says I'm her Sunday School boy. 
And Teacher, she calls me her darling and joy, 

(No, I hain't no sissy, neither!) 
My papa he says that I'm just doin' fine, 
A wearin' my brain out clean down to my spine. 
I know the commandments and twenty-third psalm 
And John, three-sixteen, and about little Sam- 
Uel, and Robi'son Crusoef, and Friday, and Paul, 
And Judas 'at's Scared At, he's worstest of ail! 

My teacher's a dandy, she knows everything. 
She told us one time 'bout a nasty old king 
That killed little boy babies, and O Mercy My! 
Their mammas were scared till they died, purty 

nigh. 
Well, one little boy baby was Moses, and so. 
His mamma she tooked him as careful, you know, 
And hugged him and kissed him and wrapped him 

up warm, 
And said, "Never mind. Honey, I'll keep you from 

harm." 
Then she went to the river and put him down in 
An ark she found there, then she kissed him again. 
And washed his ears clean and wiped off his nose. 
And tickled liis ribs, yes, and cracked all his toes, 
And gived him his bottle and put him to sleep 
Right there in the flags where the water was deep, 
And bullfrogs were croakin' and little cold snakes 
Went squirmin' around, and O, Mercy Sakes! 
Right close to the ark with a splash and a din, 
A great big old bellerin' bull rushes in! 
But Moses don't care, he was sleepin' so nice, 



t>ick Posey 

Then his mamma sneaked 'way from him, still as 

a mice. 
And Mosea' sister she watched him, and so. 
And then purty soon comes a walkin' 'long slow 
The king's bootiful daughter. And she peeked 

down 
In the flags, AND THERE'S MOSES a sleepin' so 

sound. 
And she just clapped her hands and spit out her 

gum, 
And say, "See the nice baby, I'll take him right 

home!" 
But Moses he cried and she didn't know what 
To do with that little Jew baby she'd got,. 
Then Moses' sister runned up and she say, 
"I'll get you a nurse for the child right away." 
Then the king's daughter say, "Well, for Mercy 

Sakes do! 
For he's splittin' my ear drums right squarely in 

two." 
And Moses' sister she laughed till she cried. 
And she run and brought Moses' mamma to his 

side. 
And she say, "Well, for Land Sakes! now where 

did you find 
Such a sweet little baby?" and she was so kind 
That the princess just gave her the job then and 

there. 
And say, "Raise the child up with the bestest of 

care." 
And she did, and he growed to a great big, fine 

man, 
About twenty foot tall — and beat that if you can! 
And when he got old the Lord fed him, you see, 



Dick Posey 

On quails and Man-man-bananas, as good as can be, 
And that's all about Moses. 

Now, I'll tell you 'bout Joney. He just wouldn't do 
Til 6 things that the good Lord had ordered him to. 
So Joney runned off theii and hid in a boat, 
'Way down in the hold with the pig and the goat, 
■ — Nasty old place, but he's dead certain that 
The Lord wouldn't know jus": where he's hidin' at. 
But you can't hide from God, why, he sees ever'- 

where. 
So he spied Mr. Joney a hidin' down there. 

And you'd better watch out or he'll ketch you 

some day 
When you're real naughty bad, for that's what 

Teacher say. 

And then, purty soon', the old wlli^:^tl,e it blow. 

And the 'lectric bell ring and the bt)at started 
slow. 

Then faster and faster and faster, O My! 
About leventy limes faster than sapsuckers fly! 
Till they get away out where they can't see the 
shore. 

Then he goes sound asleep and commences to 
snore. 

And snoozes and dreams that he's free from all 
harm. 

And then, first thing you know", it commences to 

storm. 
It rains pots .and kettles and hailstones, My Eye! 
As big as your two double fists, purty nigh. 
And the wind it blow awful, just tearin' around, 
Till it purt' nigh turned the old tub up-side down, 
The big waves rolled up and they hit the boat, Biff! 
And the captain and sailors were scared till they's 

stiff. 



Dick Posey 

Then they found Joney sleepin' and shake him and 

say, 
"Get down on your old marrow bones now and 

pray!" 
But Joney he wouldn't, he not even tried, 
lie didn't care much if he lived or he died. 
I 'spect he was sea-siclt, — but then, any way, 
He feeled mighty bad and don't care, so he say, 
•'Just throw me right overboard intO' tiie sea. 
It's my God sent this storm for to just punish me. ' 
But the cap shook his head, he won't do such a 

trick, 
— Pitch a man overboard 'cause his stomacli is 



SICK 



But Joney feel turrible, and he up and dare 
And double-dared 'em just to pitch him out there 
In the ocean. And sailor men won't stand for that. 
So they grabbed him up quicker'n you can say 

"Scat!" 
And they pitched him right out, clean over the rail. 
And then, what you think? A GREAT BIG OLD 

WHALE 
Stood up on its tail and spread its mouth v/ide. 
And Jcney could see a mile down its inside! 
Then he made a big dive and let out a yeil. 
And down he went, head first, singin' "I" are You 

Well, 

Vain World, I'm Going Home," and Vv-ould you be- 
lieve it? 

W^iale swallered him wli,ole, never chawed him a 
bit. 

And down went Joney, slicker'n a red hot 

Bullet goin' through butter! Then (like as not), 

He lit on his knees in its stummick and prayed, 



Dick Posey 

And stayed on his knees there and just stayed and 

stayed 
Till at last God forgave him. Teacher says, if you 

please, 
"God has many a way to fetch folks to their knees." 
Then Joney got up and went wadin' around 
In that nasty old stuff, till he purty soon found 
A pile o' dry bones over in the s-s-southv/est 
Corner of its stummick, and Joney he jest 
Set down there and rested and got back his breath, 
(I reckon he did), he was tickled to death 
To find himself cof'ble. Then he got hot 
And pulled off his coat and his hat (like as not), 
And hung 'em up on the whale's 'pendix. Yes, 
Whales has a 'pendix like people, I guess. 
Then the whale started out to give Joney a ride 
And say, ne went some! I guess he just tried 
To see what he could do, just turned on the gas 
And scooted along through the water as fast 
As a train, — or six trains! Then he come to the 

top 
And wallered around for a while, then, ker-flop! 
He'd give a big dive and go av/ay down 
To Ohiney, and then he go pokin' around 
On the bottom. And then after a while. 
When they'd traveled mor'n 'bout a million mile, 
The whale it got restless and feel awful bad 
'Cause he'd swallered a preacher. I guess Joney 

had 
Kind o' soured on his stummick. Then, his 

wadin' about 
Must o' stirred up his bile, for the whale changed 

its route 
And pointed its nose to Jerus'lem and just 



Dick Pos©y 

Laid back its ears and kicked up the dust. 
And Joney he prayed all through the whole night 
And promised the Lord 'le would da what was right. 
Then the whale it got sicker and sicker, till last 
It run right on shore ii the sand and stuck fast. 
It stopped kind o' sudden and Joney fell down 
Kerplunk! off the bone pile and wallered around. 
That tickled its stummick (I reckon it did). 
For it give a heave up like a tea-kettle lid, 
And boosted him clean to the ceiling and 
It just squirted Joney 'way out on dry land. 
A.nd say, he had plenty and mended his ways. 
And minded the Lord aU the rest of his days. 
So we've got to he careful and mind all God's laws, 
Or we'll get sw^^iiered up just like Joney was. 

And that's all about Joney. 
Now, I 11 tell you 'bout Solomon, wisest of men, 
But it don't seem to me he was very smart when 
He married just hundreds and hundreds of wives 
Till the preachers were busy as snakes, Sakes 

Alives! 
Papa says he was a regular old matrimo- 
Nial whirlwind, and a rip-snoriin' old beau. 
Then he winked at my mamma and both of 'em 

laughed. 
And he say the old codger must o' been kind o' 

daft. 

He couldn't see hov/ he had time for much fun 

When it takes a whole hour just to button up one. 

Then they must o' snored awful when they were 
in bed, 

'Cause "He slept with his fathers," so my teacher 
said. 

And that's 'nough about Solomon. 



Dick Posey 

BecSy Ie tlie TreEches 

(Courtesy of Ashland Tidings) 
Since Becky signed tlie solemn pledge to save our 

food supply, 
She has buckled on her armor and she vows she'll 

do or die, 
An(i our Johnnie's at Fort Stevens (he's his 

mother's joy and pride), 
And she says she'll never see her boy grow ga'nt 

and holler-eyed. 
So she's planted in the kitchen, standin' elbow 

deep in dough. 
And shoots volleys of hot doughnuts in our ranks 

to crush the foe. 

She sends a dray-load every week with blessin's 

from the giver. 
Then fills her poor old husband up on cold b'iled 

rice and liver. 

The vfay she skimps and hoards our grub, it shorely 
is a sin, 

" — Renders the grease out o' tlie dish-rag to fry per- 
taters in. 

She buys whole bar'ls of sugar and for sweetmeats 
scours the tov/n, 

But v/hen I plead for Bachyrine she setf5 the sorg- 
hum down. 

The barn-yard's full of chickens, but not one egg 
I see, 

And I'm fattenin' some porkers, yet I know they're 

not for me. 
But before I strike the level of the man that steals 

or begs 
I'll revert back to boyhood's days and go to suckin' 

eggs. 



Dick Posey 

Some say this mighty conriict is to level kingly 

pride, 
Others claims it's Armageddon that old Daniel pro- 
phesied. 
But if I just had the language to describe the way 

I felt. 
You'd say old Armageddon's ragin' underneath my 

belt. 
With the turkey roastin' luscious and the grease 

a tricklin' down, 
And the hot rolls bustin' open and the mince pies 

turnin' brown. 
While I w^ander meek and lonesome in that tanta- 

lizin' smell, 
Then eat a handful o' dried apples and set down 

and let 'em swell. 

Of course, I love my country, and I want our boy 

to be 
An honor to the Stars and Stripes and to his ma 

and me. 
And I w^ant to see Old Glory sweep the cob-webs 

from the sky. 
And heal the wounds of nations in the sw'eet bye 

and bye. 
I want our boys to sweep the sea, the land and 

everywhere. 
And v/his'cle "Yankee-Boodle" five miles up in the 

ail". 
O, this old heart's poundin' constant for cur beys 

from first to last, 
But 1 dream of Indianny where they have mince 

pie for breakfast. 



Dick Posey 



tf"* 



(An old saw worked over.) 
Come to the barnyard, I'll sliov/ you where 
The chickens, ducks and turkeys there. 
Mingle together, a motley throng, 
— We wonder how they can get along. 
Little chicks that have just been born, 
Young roosters "going through the horn", 
Turks and ducklets and goslings sweet, 
And gobblers that gobble all they eat. 
A foolish pullet setting there 
On thirteen potatoes, I declare! 
A gander limps with the rheumatiz, 
A goose has the phthisic, too, I guess. 
From the way she wheezes, and looks so sad. 
And that old rooster is "Poor old dad," 
Who mopes around and seems to have 
A most appalling case of grav — 
ElCin his gizzard). And you hear 
A singing and cackling far and near 
From the old hen balanced upon the trough 
To the young chick kicking his egg-shell oiL 

Ther^, grandly strutting in proud array, 
A cockerel flaunts his plumage gay. 
He's young in days, but O, so wise 
In poultry wisdom (in his own eyes). 
He's the last one of a brood of ten, 
The pride and hope of a mother hen, 
Who proudly looks as he struts about 
Notes how his tail is feathered out, 
And his comb and wattles as red as gore 
And his spurs seem itching for bloody W5ir, 



Dick Posey 



She's proud of this Chanticleer, her son, 
But still sli.e grieves for the others gone. 
One by one did they disappear, 
Till all were gone save Chanticleer. 

Thus, in the barn-yard the poultry horde 
Lazily scratch for "bed and board." 
Some on their nests are rustling eggs, 
And some young pullets with yellow legs 
Feeling not one twinge of jealousy, 
But joined together in harmony. 
Uniting all their charms so dear. 
They set their caps for Chanticleer. 

The object of their adoration 
Doth rise in lofty adulation. 
And from the gate-post, stately, grand. 
He sends his challenge o'er the land. 
Then forth there leaps a lusty cock, 
The boss and bully of the flock. 
With rage to meet this brazen foe! 
Then suddenly he stops his show 
Of battle, turns in deep disgust 
And goes and wallows in the dust. 
"That unripe fledgeling," he avers, 
"Is yet unworthy of my spurs." 

Adown the road in solemn state 

There rides a form, slow and sedate. 

The voice of Nature makes no sound, 

And all seems hushed for miles around. 

A deep impending mystery 

With dire forebodings seems to be 

The burden of the hour. A chill 

Of dread calamity doth fill 

Each chicken heart ere he doth know 



Dici: Posey 

What makes liim shake and tremble so. 
Then suddenly a warning note 
Springs from a startled pullet's throat! 
Their gills all turn from red to white, 
Their Dills do chatter in their fright, 
In silent haste they hide with care 
Beneath the currant bushes, where 
Between the dense leaves tliey can scb 
The coming of the enem3^ 
He comes. He lights with stately earo. 
Behold! The Minister is there. 

But Chanticleer, rash Chanticleer, 
Disdained to make ouq show of fear, 
Though well he knew th' affinity 
Between chickens and the ministry. 
Still, on the gate-post he did dare 
The world to come and fight him ihere. 
— But draw a kindly veil, 'tis best. 
He went the way of ail the rest. 

That evening as the setting sun 
Proclaimed another day well done, 
The mother of poor Chanticleer 
V/andered in solitude so drear. 
Among the tall and trembling reeds, 
(A sort of widow in her v*^eeds). 
She keenly felt the cruel blow 
That left her desolate with her woe. 
And while she wept in silent grief, 
Hoping that tears would bring relief. 
And wallowing in the dust to show 
The depth of her despair, you know, 
A neighbor hen came strolling by 
And dropped a word of sympathy; 



Dick Posey 



"I know, my friend, 'twas very sad 
To lose him tlms. We all have had 
Our share of earthly care and pain, 
And often times our lives seem vain; 
They are at best so short a span 
The while we serve the needs cf man. 
But we must not forget the high 
Plain where we're standing socially, 
We, an ancient, sturdy stoei:. 
Our ancestors on Plymouth Rock 
Bequeathed us in that far off time 
An aristocracy sublime. 
And while we mourn your Chanticlcc/r 
In love and sympathy, my dear, 
Hoping to dull the edge of pain, 
We know his life was not in vain. 
He's honored us at last, you see, 
He's entered now the ministry." 

The mother wept in sorrov/ still. 
Then dashed a salt tear from her bill 
With drooping wing. "Accopt of me 

My thanks for your kind sympathy. 

It seemed my heart would break in tvain 

Beneath this awful, grinding strain 

But now, methinks I see a ray 

Of hope across my darkened v.-ay. 

My heart was set on Chanticleer, 

But since he is no longer here, 

I'll take a nest this very night. 

Of fourteen eggs so clean and white, 

I've just found in the grass, you see. 

And raise a brand nev\r family. 

Perchance 'twere better thus to yield 

Him to the missionary field. 

For I have known since this September, 

He cou'd not make a good 'Lay Member.' " 



Did? Posey 



I recollect a muley cow I used to operate, 

And she was the finest milker in this blessed Web- 
foot state. 

She'd give three gallons twice a day, this yaller, 
creamy kind. 

And, musketeers, bugs and big hoss flies, she never 
'peared to mind, 

Just stand there ca'm and chaw her cood and keep 
a givin' down, 

And doze off peaceful, half asleep, and never look 
around, 

Nor h'ist her foot nor switch her tail nor even bat 
her eyes. 

You'd swear she was a dreamin' of them mansions 
in the skies, 
— Then she'd kick the bucket over. 

I've known some men to work and sweat and toil 
day in and out, 

And laugh and josh their neighbors, spreadin' sun- 
shine all about, 

And get their wives new bonnets, load the kiddies 
down with toys. 

And ear-bobs for the oldest girls and neckties for 
the boys. 

And go to meetin' Sundays and just make Old Hun- 
dred ring. 

While we're shoutin' Halleluyer as we listen to 
'em sing. 

The milk of human kindness from their natur's 
seems to ooze, 

Then go to town some Saturday and soak jamb full 
o' booze, 

— And they kick the bucket over. 



Dick Posey 

And some women, too, I've saw 'em, trudsing' 'long 

life's rugged road, 
Sleeves rolled up and faces streamin', shoulders 

bendin' 'neatli the load, 
But their hearts weire strong and ch,3eiy, passin' 

round the latest news. 
Sweep the cobwebs from your belfry when you're 

pestered with the blues, 
Bein' helpmeets to their husbands and a mother 

to their flocks, 
Milki'n' cows and raisin' chickens, m,endin' clothes 

and darnin' socks, 
Yieldin' up in life's fierce struggle all the precious 

st: ength they've got. 
Then, they get some pesky notion in their noddles, 

like as not, 
— And they kick the bucket over. 

Or, an average congregation for example now, 
you'll see 

'Em pullin' 'long together, all yoked up in har- 
mony. 

Every heart a brimmin' over with the zeal of Chris- 
tian love, 

As they "Lift up their glad voices" to the canopy 

above. 

Every word the pulpit utters wakes an echo in the 
pew, 

And they all j'ine hands together just the best that 
they can do. 

Till — some lib'ral minded idees in amongst the 

members steals, 
Some switch off on bridge, or euchre, some to 

kickin' up their heels, 

— And they kick the bucket over 



Dick Posey 

Then, the preacher now, you notice, consecrated 

heart and soul, 
Givin' body, mind and spirit for to lead us to the 

goal. 
Leavin' new made ties and friendships as he goes 

wiiere duty calls, 
Just good-bye and howdy-do, come whatever lot 

befalls; 
Take the choir and build it over, — try to make it 

harmonize, 
Get the trustees and the stewards with their faces 

toward the skies; 
Try to build a righteous temple out of purty knotty 

stuff 
• — Then he'll preach too strong on doctrine, or else 

maybe not enough, 
— And he kicks the bucket over. 

And you school ma'ams, too, I've v/atched you, and 
you've earnt my sympathy. 

Kids all right, but parents, blame 'em, ort to turn 
them crest your i^nee! 

If you're sick you must forget ii, if you're mad 
you've got to smile. 

When you lick the little rascals, keep a smilin' all 
the while. 

Always keepin' sweet and cheerful spite of cold in- 
gratitude, 

Drivin' back life's mists and shadows with the sun- 
shine of your mood, 

— And a nation's hope reposin' in the holler of 
your hand. 

Then, you tackle matrimony, 'propriate some orn- 
ery man, 

• — And you kick the bucket over. 



i^ick Posey 

Smiles 

We've no time to waste in sighing, 
And life's transient, flitting years 

Should be crowded full of gladness 
With no room for sobs and tears. 

Give me friends brimful of laughter, 

Happy hearts without regret, 
WMth hope's rainbow on their faces 

And the "new moon, always wet." 

Fill the chamber of the shut-in 

With bouquets of smiles so gay; 
Drive the shadows and the horror 

From the silent tomb away. 

True, the grave looks cramped and narrow 

To our eyes bedimmed with sin, 
But we'll have unbounded spaces 

For cur souls to frolic in. 

And, perhaps we'll laugh in Heaven, 
Crack our jokes around the throne. 

And some jolly angels slyly 
Touch our spirits' funny-bone. 

O, our lives grow sweet with laughter, 

And our hearts are purified. 
For the radiance of our smiling 

Leaves no spot where sin can hide. 

^ ^ ^ 

Young man, don't start in givin' the whole world 
advice till you can tell what color your chin-whis- 
kers is goiu' to be. 



Dick Posey 

Motlier's Biscuits 

When a Tellow gets to musin' on the things that's 

passed away, 
And gleanin' recoiiections from a long gone early 

da7, 
There's lots of things come crowdin' in, but none 

of 'em that wake 
A fellow like the biscuits that his mother used to 

make. 

Of course, I can't expLiin it, but her cookin', well 

it had 
A flavor and a toothsomeness no other cookin' had. 
Her coffee and her dougnuts, corn-pone and pie and 

cako, 
But best of all those biscuits that my mother used 

to bake. 

I can't say how she done it, nor how she mixed 

her dough. 
Nor how she kept her oven for to make 'em come 

out so; 
But, I guess she mixed in gladness, mother love 

and kindly ways 
And just stirred 'em all together, they couldn't 

help but raise. 

I can look back now in fancy and see it all so clear 

Across the shine and shadow and the mists of forty 

year. 

There's mother at the bread board with her dear 
old welcome smile. 

Her sleeves rolled up, a workin* and a talkin' all 
the v/hile. 



Dick Posey 

And there's us grown up children with our wives 
and husbands there 

To visit Pap and Mother. And our children every- 
where 

A rompin' round and chasin' all th© lonesonaeness 
away, 

And Mother's tongue a runnin' in that same old 
constart way. 

And her table — Mother's table, with its cloth as 

white as snow, 
And the knives and forks and dishes just a shinln', 

don't you know? 
Roast chicken, brown as doughnuts, mashed per- 

taters, mixed with cream, 
Mince pies with cider in 'em, angel cake, — and 

midnight dreams! 

A big yeller cake of butter with an acorn printed on, 

And her coffee, creamy golden, and us gulpin' of it 
dowu 

By the sasserful. And her biscuits, Mother's bis- 
cuits, the kind ""hat can't be beat. 

And Mother beamin' on us all, just a coaxin' us 
to eat. 

Well, drivin' home one evcnin', I couldn't help but 

kind 

Of size up Sairy's cookin' rgainst Mother's in my 
mind. 

I had a kind o5 feelin' I wa'n't treated on the 

square, 
— I felt real sorry for myself, thought I wasn't 

treated fair. 

And I, fool like, spoke to Sairy 'bout the fact that 
maybe she 



Dick Posey 

Hadn't got 'v/ay up in cookin' like a wife had ought 

to be. 
I saw it iiind o' riled her, had a tendency to wake 
A preju'dice 'gainst them biscuits that Mother used 

to make. 

But we rode on home in silence, both a feelin' 

purty sore 
And a nursin' of our feelin's, but we didn't say no 

more. 
We had early learnt the lesson that we never once 

forgot, 
To keep the tongue well bridled when the temper's 

blazin' hot. 

One day I caught my mother just slidin' through 

the bars 
'Long about noon, — the home place lay 'longside 

next to ours. 

I was most pesky hungry, so I asked her if she'd 
take 

Time to make some biscuits just like she used 
to bake, 

I can see her nov/ as plain as if it was only yes- 
terday^, 

As she turned around and faced me in her quiet 
sort of way, 

And kind o' smiled, says she, "Sairy's got as nice a 
pan 

Of biscuits as should suit the whim of any hungry 
man." 

But she said she'd come that evenin', so I went a 

whistlin' on 
As happy as a katydid a screechin' on the lawn, 
And I gulped down Sairy's biscuits, but not enough 

to take 



Dick Posey 

My ap'tite from them biscuits that Mother's goin' 
to make. 

And I told Salry Mother was comin' that night for 

tea. 
And was goin' to make some biscuits just like they 

ort to be; 
Then I took a chaw tobacker, and told her just to 

make 
An item of them biscuits that Mother was goin' 

to bake. 

Say, I'll not forget that supper! The table it was 

piled 
With every thing that's toothsome, and I just set 

there and smiled 
And chuckled to myself, — even Sairy, she looked 

pleased'. 
And when Mother asked the blessin' I saw she kind 

of Vv'heezed, 

And looked amused, but then of course she'd do 

the thing up right, 
Then I got down to bizness, well, say, it was a 

fright! 

I charged upon them vittles with destruction in 
my eye. 

I et just 'leven biscuits and a half a punkin pie! 

When we leant back from the table then Mother 
took her say. 

She asked mo what I thought of Sairy's biscuits, 
anyway. 

Sairy's pies and Sairy's doughnuts, and fried 
chicken, — Sairy's tea, 

"And them biscuits, John, at dinner time, that pan 
was baked by me." 



Dick Posey 

I swan! I was dumbfouDdered, I looked foolish like 

and bored, 
— Tumbled to the whole blame bizness! Then 

Mother lit in and scored 
And scolded me like blazes. Told how a man can 

change 
A wife's true love to bitterness by complainin', and 

think strange, 

That the joy once showr at meetin' him had seemed 

to slip aw^ay 
And left a cold heart for him that was lovin' once 

and gay. 
"Are your feelin's as tender, John, as when Sairy 

was a bride? 
Do you stand as proud and manly now while 

walkin' by her side? 

"Are you proud about your dressin' yet? Your 

necktie always straight? 
Do you lift her from the carriage just as careful 

now, and wait 
A half hour glad and cheerful while she's fixin' up 

to go? 
Does your heart control your actions like it did 

ten years ago? 

"I tell you, John," she whispered in a sort of un- 
dertone, 

"There's more hearthstones left desolate, more 
evenin's spent alono 

From this thing of complainin' than from all the 
ills of life, 

A man must be abidin' and indulgent with his 
wife." 



Dick Posey 

Her words fell slow emd solemn and I guess they 

fit me tight, 
But they cut like forked lightnin', for I knew that 

she was right. 
My length and breadth and thickness shriveled up 

to half their size, 
I felt so 'tarnal small I couldn't look in Salry's 

eyes. 

But I sneaked a look 'crost at her with a sickly 

sort of grirt, 
And I saw the tears a tricklin' down, and noticed 

that her chin 
Was nervous, like, and wabblin', and I couldn't 

stand the strain, 
So I rech around and kissed her, kerflop! and 

kissed her 'gain. 

And just kept on a kissin' her till Mother had to 

come 
And interfere for Sairy's sake. Well, after that, 

our home 
Was different and more peaceabler, I learned to 

watch my say, 
And Sairy's life grew happier and Sairy's face 

grew gay. 

The lowerin' clouds of discontent had rifted over- 
head, 

And beams of sunny happiness came showerin' 
down instead. 

I'll own up square. The medicine that did me 

good to take. 

Was that doco of Sairy's biscuits liko Mother used 
to make. 



Dick Posey 



You can talk about your circusses and movin' pic- 
tures, too, 

And Coon camp-meetin's, haller e'ens and sliiv- 
arees, but you 

Can take my word, the hottest shov/ that ever 
fetched a laugh 

Was once one time when Pa he tried to wean our 
spotted calf. 

The calf it milked the left hand ones, Pa milked 

them on the right, 
And every blessed milkin' time the calf and Pa 

would fight; 
It'd butt its head and switch its tail and dig right 

in like glory. 
Pa said he had an awful time to hold his territory. 

And the calf 'ud muss the cow up so sometimes 

Pa'd make it march. 
He said he'd rather run his hand dovv'n in a crock 

o' starch. 
He said he sometimes wished that calf was in a 

hotter region, 
He said he'd have to wean the thing or give up his 

religion. 

So he went and got a milk pan and he put some 

warm milk in, 
And m.e, I cluml) upon the fenG'3 to see the fun 

begin. 
Pa sav/ me and he said, "That's right, my son, 

watch Papa, and 



Dick Posey 

You'll be a first class farmer when you get to be 
a man.." 

Then ha marched into the calf-pen, where the 

spotted calf was at. 
And he says, "Come on now Spotty > here's the dope 

to make you fat!" 
Then ho put his hand down in it and stuck up his 

finger, so. 
Ke thought the calf would come and take it in its 

mouth, you know. 

And when it'd go to pullin', then he'd souse its nose 

down in 
The milk and then it'd go to drinkin'. And then he 

says again, 
"Ccme on now Spotty, here's your dope, come take 

your medicun," 
But the calf just smelt Pa's finger and then it 

broke and run. 

Well, say, that was the smartest calf I purt' nigh 

ever saw. 
It knowed as v;ell as any thing Pa's finger wa'nt 

its ma. 
And then Pa's fingers stickin' up instead of t'other 

way. 
And Pa didn't have no bell on, nor horns, nor 

eatin' hay. 

And then he took to chasi?' it around aud round 

the pen, 

It'd stop and size his fin^-er up, then break and run 
again. 

I could see F?/s jaws a grin din' and his neck a 
gettin' red 



Dick Posey 

I knowed some fun was comin' by the kind of 
words he said. 

Then he went and set the milk down where he 

thought it's safe from harm, 
And he says, "Ding bat. ^'11 show you who's runnin' 

this here farm!" 
And' he spit on his hands and rolled his sleeves 

clean to his neck, 
"Now you'll see, you little rascal, who's runnin' 

things, 'y Heck! 

And he caught old Mister Spotty by the left ear and 

his tail, 
And the fun was on for little Willie roostin' on that 

rail. 
It was the beautiifulest serap they purt' nigh ever 

was. 
He ripped Pa's shirt clean up the back and bust 

his gallusses! 

Then Pa bent the calf plumb double and he yelled, 

"You spotted brute, 
I'll make you bite your pesky tail off, clear up to 

your snoot." 
Then the calf let out a beller and scooted right be- 
tween 
Pa's old bow-legs and took him on its back as slick 

and clean 
As a whistle. And Pa just howled and grabbed up 

Spotty's tail 
And they shashayed round the calf-pen like a 

schooner under sail. 
Well, I just stood up and hollered, and then Carlo 

started in, 



Dick Posey 

And the henti and geese and guineas all kicked up 
an awful din. 

And the pigs squealed, and the colts and calves 

went tearin' 'crost the lot, 
And the gobbler and the turkey hen j'insd in the 

turkey trot. 
And the crows and yeller-hammers — Oh, you'd just 

a thought for shore 
Noah's Ark had scraped bottom and he'd opened 

up the door. 

Then} the calf it kind o' humped its ba(k and 

thr-owed Pa, clean as silk, 
And kicked him in the rtummick and set down in 

th9 milk. 
He looked and ketched me laughin', and I hadn't 

done no harm. 
He says, "What you laughin' for?" Says I, "I'm 

learnin' how to farm." 

Gee! he was mad; he started in again, then shook 

his head, 
And said, "O shucks and fiddlesticks!" and that 

was all he said. 
He limped away and left the foe a holdin' down 

the fiel'. 
But Pa got even with him, for he sold the calf 

for veal. 

^ -^ <$> 

When it comes to cliev/ing tobacco 

I take off m>' hat to old Pete McGrath. 

Every time Peto kisses his Vvafe, 

She has to take a bath. 



Dick Posey 



Yes, old Cy Jenkins is, I s'pose, 

About the most contrariest, 
Outlandish mortal. Goodness knows! 

Just seems like old Cy is possest. 
No matter what your views may be 

Hg'11 somehow, always take his stand 
Just opposite, and Gee-mun-nee- 

He'U argy just to beat the band! 

Cy's 'bout the only Democrat 

In this whole town. Just kind o' tease 
And egg him', he'll throw down his hat, 

Spit on his hands, roll up his sleeves. 
And sweat and foam and work his jaw 

And tell us how things should be run, 
But when he lived in Arkansaw 

He was a sta'nch Republican. 

The Council passed an ordinance 

To keep all hogs and cows shet up. 
Then you'd ort to see old Cy prance 

And tear around and get het up 
And cuss the Council black and blue, 

And spit ambeer and say, says he: 
"What's this here town a comin' to? 

You Council don't know A-B-C! 

"Now, what's beautifuller than a cow, 
A p.eaceful cow, say in the street 

Or yer yard? Or a nice clean sow 

And pigs? They're mighty hard to beat. 

I won't set still and be opprest, 
I'll recall ye, — I'll make ye Qua,il!" 



Diclc Posey 

But when the stock was beiii' assest 
Cy hadn't nary hide nor tail. 

He kicked his wife clean off the place 

And told her just to stay away, 
And not come back and show her face 

Ner whine, — then ho skipped out next day. 
But when she'd got her a deevorce, 

Here old Cy come a snortin' back 
And went and captured her by force 

And married her again, By Jack! 

We all thought once he's goin' to die, 

And we were tryin' to look sad 
Around his bed, and even Cy 

Hisself was feelin' mighty bad. 
He hadn't cussed for more'n a week 

And acted human towards his wife, 
Till all at once he noticed Zeke 

Hatch, the coffin man, big as lifo 

A lookin' greedy et him. Say, 

He jumped out in his stockin' feet. 
And not much else, — and then, away, 

He chased him up and down the street 
And treed him up a post and jest 

Cussed him up one side and down, 
And then he limped back home and drest, 

— Since then Cy's gained 'bout fifty poun'. 

<S> ^ ^ 

Speakin' of slander and back-bitin'; if you turn 
a turkey buzzard loose in Paradise, in fifteen min- 
utes it'll have its beak buried in some old rotten 
carkus. 



Dick Posey 



O the bright 

Starry light, 

Mingled red and blue and white, 

Of our flag that floats in rapture from the steeplt^'s; 

dizzy height. 

See it fly 
Up po high 
Till it strains the weary eye, 
As it rolls its bright waves upward till they nestle 
in the sky. 

Alien foe 
Strikes a blow 
At the flag we're loving so, 
And an outraged nation springs to arm with curses 
deep and low. 

Khaki-clad 
Men go mad. 
Spartan mothers, fiercely glad, 
Offer up the fondest treasures that their hearts 
have ever had. 

Mother wild, 
Slaughtered child. 
Smoking thresholds, maids defiled. 
German brutes, with recking fingers, bestial lusts 
and souls exiled. 

Frenzied prayer, 
Lost in ^.ir, 
— Is there no God anywhere? 
Shall this relic of Dark Ages sink all Europe in 
despair? 



Dick Posey 

From the West 
On tho crest, 
Of Atlantic's billows pressed, 
Comes the champion of Freedom, suckled at her 
snowy breast. 

From the moil 
And the toil 
Of America's turmoil, 
It's the virile seed of Europe, sprung from out a 
virgin soil. 

'Tis a band, 
Reckless, grand, 
Masterpiece of God's right hand. 
And they're shouting "Yankee Doodle," "Hail 
Columbia, Happy Land." 
And the throng 
Swells a song 
And its melodies prolong; 
"We are Coming, France, We're Coming and We're 
Coming Millions Strong!" 

Memories yet. 
Of LaFayette, 
With our Continentals met, 
Stir their hearts with martial ardor, aching throats 
and lashes wet. 

Champions we, 
France, with thee. 
In the drive for liberty, 
Shoulders touching, hopes entwining, martyrs to 
humanity. 

Hugging tight 
Flag so bright, 



Dick Posey 

They rush headlong to the fight, 
And the hot, red blood goes pounding through their 
arteries in the flight. 

Belgians glad. 
Kaiser sad, 
Wishing that he never had, 
Yankee linked with Frank and Briton, Hell broke 
loose and Heaven gone mad! 

Flag of mine. 
Flag of thine. 
Millions worship at thy shrine. 
Earthly hope is centered in thee, stripes that gleam 
and stars that shine. 

When we lie 
Down to die. 
Plain, ignoble, you and I, 
Let us wrap those colors 'round us as a passport 
through the sky! 



<^ ^ <S> 

There's nothing that lifts the soul of a fly 
From this mundane sphere to the vaulted sky. 
As to light on the brow of your custard pie 
And scrape the typhoid germs off of his fetlocks. 

<^ <$> ^ 

Aunt Martha Jane was never kissed, she never had 

a beau. 
But now she wears her new spring hat trimmed up 

in mistletoo. 



Dick Posey 

Hawg Meat 

I have studdied human natur' 
Off and on for sixty year. 
And I've noticed that our diet 
Counts a heap in our career. 
Our lives are built and fashioned 
By the kind of grub we eat. 
If you want a man what is a man, 
Just feed him plain hawg meat. 

You say they're filchy? Granted. 
But some animals are wuss; 
Us humans, we eat hawg meat, 
Are they filthier than us? 
"Purty is what purty does," 
As the old saw used to say. 
I know some folks, 'y Gripes! 
They'd gag an old sow, any day. 

They say that fish are wholesome. 
And a great food for the brain. 
Well, there's the Siwash Injuns, 
Just observe 'em, then explain. 
Nov/ take chickens, geese and turkeys, 
- — Blamed weak diet for mankind! 
They iiaint the essence in 'em 
Like good corn-fed hawgs, you'll find. 

Take me and all cur fambly 

For example, if you please. 

All hawg-fed from the cradle 

And we boast our pedigrees, 

All born farmers, pure and simple, 

(With the politician's pull), 

I'm School Glerk o' this here deestriet. 

And may stand for constable. 



Dick Posey 



Bill, he's Justice o' the Peace, 
'LiBcted strong, without one pledge, 
Hangs his shingle out in Phoenix, 
Got his eye on County Jedge. 
Jake's a cop, right here in Medford, 
And he's our next sheriff, shore; 
Josh, he's got an eye for bizness. 
So he'll tend the county pore. 

Jane, she'll take schiOol sup'rintendent. 
And she's lightnin' on the run, 
Jane's a great hard for the chidlren, 
An old maid and haint got none. 
Understand, we don't want office, 
All of us are satisfied. 
But our friends just pile it on us. 
For they know v/e're qualyfied. 

Which eelustrates my pet idee 

'Bout our diet, don't you see? 

'Course, it took good brains and judgment 

For to h'ist us where we be, 

But it's brains backed up with hawg mea', 

— Good old Berkshire simmereid down 

Into good hoss-sense and git-thero 

That has fetched us our renown. 

Show me a man that co'nquars worlds 

And scales Fame's dizzy height, 

■ — He's pokin' hawg meat down his neck 

Mornin', noon and night. 

It puts the ginger in you 

And some gumption in your hat. 

It's our nation's hope and pr'omise. 

Just plain hawg meat, good and fat. 



Dick Posey 

The Land Of I Wisht It Was 

Up in the land of I Wisht It Was, 

It's beautiful, Goodness knows! 
There ain't no Vv'hippiii's up there because 

There ain't no whips that s^^ows. 
There's lots o' candy and lemonade, 

'And movin' pictur's free, 
And groat big puddles o' marmalad,9 

Just made for you and me. 

Mammas and papas up there, you know, 

Just smile the livelong day. 
There ain't no work, nor school to go, 

Hain't nothin' but just play. 
Cherries without no stummick-ake, 

Bees with no stingers in. 
And fairy automobiles to take 
Us out for a little spin. 

O, that dear land of I Wisht It Was! 

Where is it hidin' at? 
It must be the place where old Santa Clans 

Pastures his reindeers fat. 
There's ice for skatiii' without no cold. 

And flowers without no hot. 
And everything's free and nothin' sold, 
Just help yourself or net. 

They say we must cross the Land of Nod 

And the land of Our Dreams Come True, 
To where our little shoes never trod 

But just where the fairies do. 
We always go in tli,e dead of night 

On night-mares with wings of gauze. 
That never stop till they land us right 

In the Land of I Wisht It Was 



Dick Posey 



John and I weir© twins, you know. 

Just as like as like could bo. 

They never were real oertain 

Which was John and which was m©. 

And the way v/o used to cut up 

It really was a sham,o, 

— Wo d sometimes get mixed up ourselves 

As to which was t'other's name. 

We both grew up together 

And we held our likeness still, 

Just plumb alike, inside and out 

Like two peas, if you v/ill. 

We liked the same grub,, games and toys. 

Same bocks and clothes, ond so 

We both surrendered to the same 

Piece of female calico. 

Mcllie Jenkins was her name, 
— Just as purty as a pink. 
With her lips and cheeks like i osos 
And her eyes as black as ink. 
And when she'd peep from under 
Her sun-bonnet, v/oll it set 
Our hearts a dancin' hornpipes 
And mine's still a dancin' yet. 

Let come a candy pullin' 
Or a spellin'-bee, we'd jest 
Both light right out for Jenkinses' 
Ragged up in our Sunday best, 
And laugh and josh each othe^r 



Dick Posey 

As good-natured as could be. 
Her pap he ust to rig her 
'Bout ccmmittiu' bigamy. 

We alv/ays kept together, 

Walkin' tlirough life hand in hand, 

We had the selfsame politics 

And the same religious brand. 

And V. ben the war-god cracked his whip 

And stirred men's spirits high, 

We joined the home militia, 

Pledged ourselves to win or die. 

And tlier our country called us, 

And we maa-ched off side by sidei, 

Our eyer were drippin' tear-drops 

And our hearts were filled with pride. 

And Mollfe pinned a riosjebud 

On each of us, you see, 

And John said, "Why Sam, they're twins, too. 

Just the same as you and me." 

And so we tramped the battlefields 
Together, fought our way 
Across the Land of Dixie, 
Felt stern battle's thrill and sway. 
We diained ,each other's canteens. 
Shared the last crumb, don't you se«? 
Ah, we v/ere comrades, wgU as twins, 
My brother John and m©. 

They tried to make him Corporal, 
And I saw him lift his head 
With a soldier's proud ambition 
And my heart sank down like lead. 



Dicfe Posey 

But I said, "Go to it, John," 

He clasped my hand and spoke up calm: 

"Excuse me, Captain, but I guess 

I'll just stick back here with Sam." 

And so, we stayed plain pricates, 

With no frills nor shoulder straps, 

Just common soldiiers, ?.rxd maybe 

It was just a,s v/ell, perhaps. 

For a soldier is a soldier 

If his h,eart beats strong and tiue. 

And he feels he's dedicated 

To the old Red, White and Blue. 

One night we lay at Gettysburg, 

The air s'eemed dense and still; 

Th,o soldiers talked in whispers. 

Each bosom felt the thrill 

Of unknown tragedy that bneathed 

A nation's hope or woe. 

Us Yankees didn't brag as loud 

As usual, don't you know. 

We sat beside our camp fire 

And I'd took my pen in hand 

To write a good long letter 

Back to Mollie, understand. 

John tad li,dard from her that evenin , 

Me, I'd heard the week before. 

She always wrote us turn about. 

To keep us from gettin' sore. 

John read his thriough and then kept mum, 
— JVot a word from her to me. 
She always sent her love to John 



Dick Posey 



In my letters, don't you see? 
Then John he spoke up sassy, like: 
"Well, who are you writin' to?" 
"That's my affair, not yours," says I, 
"Is that clear enough for you?" 

"I guess I grasp your meania'," 
John he answers, laughin' light, 
As he unrolls his blankets 
And curled up for tlio night. 
I tried to write, but couldn't, 
So I put the things away 
And that letter that T started 
Hain't been finished to this day. 

And that night, I can't forget it, 
MoUie's white face ha'nted me, 
Sometimes sad and c-ometimes smilin', 
But 'twas sw,eet as Heaven can be. 
And I felt my heart grow icy 
Towards my brother in his bed. 
God help me, but I h?.tGd John, 
I almost wished him. dead. 

Next day the Hell of battle 

Scorched old Gettysburg. Blue and Gray 

Fought like blood-crazy demons 

For the glory of the day. 

A nation's hope hung balanced 

In the giddy hand of Fate, 

And the hearts cf men grew cruel 

With a cold and bitter hate. 

Our comrades tumbled round us 
And the Johnnies bit the dust, 



Dick Posey 

We fought and cursed and shouted 
In the craze of battle's lust. 
The hoi lead rained around us 
Like fierce hailstones in a storm, 
And the vicious minie bullets 
Bit our ragged uniform. 

And then the Johnnies charged us, 
And they bent our front like wire, 
They come with blood a streamin' 
And their guns a belchin' fire. 
We rallied, then went at 'em 
And we hit back left and right, 
We fired, then clubbed our muskets 
In a lOugh and tumble fight. 

I mixed it with a Texan, 
He nipped me, I winged him, too; 
Then he wrenched my musket from me 
And v/as 'bout to run m,e through, 
When Johrt, he jerked me backwards 
And sprung at him with a yell; 
But the Texan beat him to it, 
And, — I caught John as he fell. 

God only knows the agony 

That Cut me like a knife. 

I'd offered him my hatred 

And he'd offered me his lifa 

"O John, what mad© you do it? 

It had better far been me," 

I groaned. He pricssed my hand and 

Said, "Why, Sam, we're twins, you see.'* 

"And Sam," he gasped, a spittin' red, 
"Mollle cent her love to you, 



Dick Posey 



Take her, old boy, but recollect 
Your brother loved h,er, too." 
"No, no, John; you're her favorite, 
She wiote me so," I lied. 
"You've got to live for MoUie's sake. 
You're not a goin' to die." 

A look of joy lit up his face 
That thrilled me through and through, 
He thought clean to his dyin' day 
That what I said v^as true. 
Some lies are holier than truth, 
But I felt all hope was gone 
When I tore Mollie from my heart 
And gave her up to John. 

The surgeons kind o' patched him up 
And sent me back to him. 
And sometimes on that awful trip 
His spsrk of life glowed dim; 
But I would fan it to a flame 
By sayin, "Brace up now, come, 
You'll soon have Mollie nursin' you, 
We're gettin' purty nigh home." 

Pap met us at the depot 

With a big, fat feather bed; 

And we got John home alive and 

That was all that could be said, 

I saw him restin' peaceful 

In the best room that they was, 

Then I kissed Mother and I hiked 

Right out tiO\v Jenkinses, 

Found Mollie in the kitchen 
Fryin' doughnuts; all in vain 



i)ick Posey 

I'd tore her image from my heart, 
— She flopped back in again. 
She come with eyes a streamin', 
Her sweetheart's love on her face, 
Sh^e was mine but for the askin', 
And I prayed God for His grace. 

Boys, I've fought a-many a battle 
On the fields of Dixie Land, 
I've btrove and sw,eat and wrastled 
With Death's angel, hand to hand. 
But with Mollie's arms around me 
And her warm kiss coaxin' me, 
'Twas v.orse than Gettysburg to do 
A brother's part by John, you see. 

So, I told her all about it. 
Told how grand and brave and true 
He had battled for his country 
And the old R^ed, White and Blue; 
How he offered up his life for me 
And to her his heart he'd give, 
Said I'se 'feared he's mortal wounded 
And he wairn't a goin' to live. 

I felt her trjemble in my arms 

And my soul cried out in pain. 

1 tried to hide my feelin's 

But I know she read me plain,. 

Then she kissed me, long and ling'rin 

And her face was pale and drawn, 

"Well, Sam," she whispered, sobbin' like, 

"Guess I might as well take John." 

And so I led her to him 

And was: proud to see the jo^ 



Dick Posey 



That lighted up the tortured face 
Of thai poor wounded boy. 
And v/hen I tip-toed to the door 
And gently pulled it sh,et, 
Ker face shone like a angel's 
And her eyes were swimmin' wet. 

Yes, ho rallied 'neath h,er nursin' 
And he soon w^as hobblin' round, 
And they's happy as tw^o turtle doves 
at matin' time. I found 
Comfort and consolation 
In their happiness, you know, 
And got myself half reconciled 
'Longjiide of Marthy Crow% 

At last their weddin' night rolled round 

And such a time we had. 

My heart was healed, and just to see 

Them happy madiO me glad,. 

And with Marthy hooked up to my arm 

As rosy as the dawn, 

And all the neighbor's riggin' us 

And just a takin' on. 

We danced the gay eowtillyorn. 

And the old Virginny Reel, 

And drunk hard cider good and stiff 

Till it tinglGd in your heel. 

We hugged th,e bride and wished 'em 

All the joys to kingdom come. 

And sung that good old sacred hymn, 

"When Johnnie Comes Marchin' Homo," 

Then Marthy and I were married 
'Long about the first of June, 



Dick Posey 

And went to John's and Mollie's 
For to spend our honeymoion. 
Pap built m|9 up a cottage, 
Just across from John's, you see, 
And there we wei^e, all four of us, 
Just as happy as could be. 

Years passed by and there we lived 

In sweet and ca'm content. 

Of course, we had our ups and downs 

As the seasons came and went. 

John's wound would k'eep a breakin' out 

And I had his work to do; 

And he got a big fat pension, 

And he cut it square in two. 

But he kept a growin' frailer, like, 
And ^\eaker with the yeara 
I knev/ he'd soon be leavin' us 
And Mollije, shie had her fears. 
She nursed and blooded over him 
And Y- atched him night and day. 
And just before last harvest time 
His spirit passed away. 

Welf, John, he was scarcely planted 
When my great affliction come. 
And I v/as left a widower 
In my cold and che;erless home. 
And poor Mollie, just across the ror.d 
Was mournin' hard for John, 
And mei, I mourned for Mart.hy, 
And both of us all alone. 

Sometimes we'd walk together 
To the graveyard, and we'd set 



Dick Posey 



A weepin' there in silenc,© 

Till our handkerchers were wet. 

And my heart it went out to her 

In her sorrow, and she'd say 

Vv'ord>3 of comfort to me 

That \,'culd soothe my grief awaiy. 

I felt so sorry for her. 

No man she could call her own; 

And she. felt sorry, too, for me 

A bachin' there all alone. 

So, I'd do her chores up for h,er 

And she'd have me in for tea, 

And a nice;, hot breakfast for me. 

And foi dinner, don't you see? 

And, I got to feelin' younger like, 
And i^pryer, in a sense. 
Sometimes I'd start for Mollie's 
I could jump a ten-rail fence. 
There's nothin' else that limbers up 
An old man's j'ints, you see, 
Like bereayement — leaves him active 
And kind o' frolicky. 

At last our m,ournin' end,ed, 

— Three long months of bitter grief. 

And I walked across tf> Mollie's 

With a feelin' of relief. 

And when I popped the question 

She embraced me till I'se weak, 

"O Samuel! Sam-u-ell!" says she, 

"I'se 'feared you'd never speak." 



i)ick Posey 

Fve Got My Fingers Crossed 

Do you recall that good old game of tag we used 

to play? 
We'd cliaso and tag each other 'round the barn the 

livelong day, 
And try to make some fellow "It," then Pteal the 

base ho'd lost, 
When he'd yell, "Hey! you can't get me, I've got 

my fingers crossed." 

We've all grown up to manhood, but we're still 

a-playin' tag. 
Bill has a great big dry-goods store, you ought to 

hear him brag. 
A big card in the window says he's seeing out at 

cost, 
But when you pin him dcwn you'll find he's got his 

fingeirs crossied. 

John's just an honest farmer, politicians tell him so. 
He takes great pride in raising spuds, his hobby, 

don't you know? 
But s,eems the biggest, smoothest ones up to the 

top get tossed,, 
And when you dig down deep you'll find John's got 

his fingers crossed. 

I fell in love with Susie Brown and dogged her till 

she cried, 
And promised her earth's richest gifts if she would 

be my bride. 
I vowed I'd be her slavo for life, no matter what 

the cost. 
But now she takes in washing and I've got my 

fingers crossed. 



t)ick Posey 

Wealth Has Its Burdens 

Since I sold out en Big Sticky 
And begun to take my ease, 
I have seen a great big lot of 
Human Natur', if you please. 
Folks that ust to pass right by ua 
With their noses in the air 
Bow and scrape to me and Marthy 
And invite us everywhere. 

Bankers, agents, real-cstaters 
Point the way to certain wealth. 
And every doctor in the county 
F,eel3 deep interest in ouii* health. 
Politicians button-hole me. 
Drag mo off into their d'en. 
Offer me a seat in, Congress, — 
Then they strike mo for a "Ten". 

Then these ortermobilo agents, 
(Their cheek covers their whole fp.ce). 
Somehow got wind of my n,est-ogg 
And come nosin' bout the place. 
Come from Ashland by the dozen, 
Just a glitterin', My Stars! 
And a great big bunch from Medford 
With their billion dollar cyars. 

And they took us out joy-ridin'. 

Me and my whole fambily. 

Me and Marthy and six childorn. 

All corn-fed and plump, you see. 

And we'd wedge in there like sardine,'' 



l)ick Posey 

And I'd tell the sheffoniere 

Just to "Turn her loose, Professor/' 

Then set back and split the air. 

And they camped there, night an' mornin', 
And my Marthy she declares 
That the smudge from out their enjines 
Sayed our crop of Bartlett pears. 
And I'd alius pick the finest, 
Biggest, slickest cyaro, you see, 
For there's none too good, 'Y Gravy! 
For my fambily and me. 

Well, the weeds they took my garden 
And I clean forgot to plow. 
And the wom,en quit house-cleanin' 
And we seldom milked the cow. 
Till at last I ketched the fcvor, — • 
Took the agents at their word. 
And I went down to the garbage 
And bought a second-handed Ford. 

^ <$> <$> 

Some men are jamb full of the milk of human 
kindness, but the trouble is it's gone blinky. 

It is far easier for a rich man to pass through the 
iGiye of a camel than for a poor man to enter the 
United States Senate. 

Some men are so tarnation scared of microbes 
that they'd rather tussle v>^ith a rattlesnake than 
to drink out of the same cup a neighbor has used in 
the chair car, but they're tickled to death to sneak 
off into the smoker and suck the same old bottle 
of booze with half a dozen other slobberin' old sots. 



Dick Posey 

Jest Common FolKs 

Just common foll:s, plain common folks, just folks, 

like you and me, 
Where heart meets heart and soul meets soul in 

kindly harmony. 
Whore pomp and pride are banished and old Nature 
clsims her own. 

Where hopes and fears 
And joys and tears 
Spring from the heart alone. 

Just ccnim.on folks, I know we're plain, our hands 

are stiff from toil, 
We wre-st from Nature's stubborti clutch th.e bounty 

of her soil; 
We pierce the mountain's stony heart and lay her 
trea.su res bare: 

The lust of strif.Q 
Enfolds each life 
And holds us prisoned thoro. 

Perchance we're rude, uncultured, but Love hath 

found a home 
Eternal in our besoms. Suffering speaks, the tear 

dcth Qome. 
The calloused palm can pr,3S3 the brow as light as 
eiderdown. 

Wo sweep life's keys 
And melodies 
Sublime we make our own. 

Just common folks. Our fare is plain, but Love hath 
spread the board. 



Dick Posey 

No works of art adorn our walls, but, those old 

word^, adored, 
In sweetest benediction breathe the prayer, "God 
Biess Our Home." 

Our toil is blent 
With swef t content 
And dreamless slumbers come. 

Just common folks. Our neighbors* lot we hold 

with constant care, 
And when we clasp their hands we feel their warm 

hearts throbbing there. 
We cluster round their firesides in soul communion 
deep. 

Make glad our voice 
When thoy rejoice 
And weep with them that weep. 

Just common folks. A helpless world holds out its 

puny hand, 
To take the crust we offer. The mightiest of the 

land 
Are clay within our fingers; we mould them as we 

will. 

The shuttle flies 

Beneath our eyes 

Fate's warp and woof to fill. 

Just common folks. Yon gallant fleet was launched 

from out our hand, 
Yoa city, teeming with the hordes and wealth of 

every land. 
Found birth within our concept. Earth's miracles 

are wrought 

Within the moil 
Of common toil. 
With common patience fraught. 



Dick Posey 

Come, tread with me yon stately halls where Wis- 
dom holds her sway, 

Wher,9 Justice, clad in ermine robes, decrees from 
day to day 

The fate of nations. Looking back to childhood's 
days of yore, 

We hail with joy 

The barefoot boy 

Behind the plow once more, 

— Just common folks. 

We're lifted up in fancy to that realm of purest joy, 

Wli,ere angels tread Elysian fields of bliss without 
alloy. 

No tear5i to shed for sorrow and no evil to atone, 

Where loved ones raise 

Their voice in praise 

Around the great White Throne. 

W,e watch them awed, enraptured, time hath no 
mesasure now, 

The shining kiss of Heaven rests upon each saintly 
brow. 

Their garments wove from threads of love in earth's 
brief span of years, 

Their diad^ems 

Bedecked with gems, 

Distilled from mortal teara 

And all the shining hosts are there, as far as eya 
can see, 

And in their midst, all glorified, the Man of Galilee. 
We speak to one beside us, "O tell us, who are 
thfcy?" 

With smile as bright 
As Heaven's light, 
He reverently doth sao^ 

"Just common folks. 



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Ashland Tidmgs PHntars 



